


Drink, Smoke, Swallow. Repeat.

by geminemi



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Alcoholism, Angst, Breakup, Cheating, DAN AND PHIL - Freeform, Death, Depression, Drowning, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drugs, M/M, Major Depression, Partner Abuse Mention, Phan - Freeform, Phan Angst, References to Depression, Some humor here and there, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Texting, domestic abuse mention, drug overdose, first fic, kiss off, phan breakup, pill overdose, violent femmes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 18:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10792473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geminemi/pseuds/geminemi
Summary: Dan is an alcoholic and Phil leaves him without a word. Dan goes through a downward spiral that he believes will never end until he puts a stop to it himself.Based off of the song "Kiss Off" by Violent Femmes





	Drink, Smoke, Swallow. Repeat.

**Author's Note:**

> Read tags for warnings. Please ask for something to be tagged if need be.
> 
> Not Beta'd

Dan stood before the sink, watching as the water flowed from the faucet. His hands trembled and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in. He could do this. He clenched his fists as he picked up the first pill.

 

_ I take one, one, one ‘cause you left me _

 

Dan felt the tears build up as Phil walked out without a glance behind him. As the door closed, he fell to the floor, a sob threatening to break free from his mouth. Phil had gathered everything he could carry and left that morning, finding a confused Dan lying on the sofa. He’d come home drunk from some pub last night with people he didn’t care about and passed out before he noticed Phil packing a suitcase. He’d left without a word as soon as Dan had woken up.

 

Dan had immediately sobered up and began to whisper a series of “Phil, Phil, no, please don’t go, I’m sorry”’s continuously. He sobbed quietly to himself from his position on the floor, his face in his hands. He’d fucked up.

 

_ And two, two, two for my family _

 

Dan had always known he wasn’t cut out to be a lawyer. But it was what his parents wanted, and he’d always thought he was a good son. He’d gotten better than decent grades, he was happy enough, and he loved his parents. Maybe they didn’t love the fact that he went off with his mates to drink and smoke down at the nearby pub every so often, or that he was messaging an older man on the internet, but he prided himself on his mundanity.

 

Or so he thought.

 

Dan always thought he was straight- he’d had a few girlfriends, had sex a few times, even had a long-term relationship with a girl- three years of commitment. He’d never once thought he’d even  _ liked  _ men- sure, he’d noticed a good figure or a cute hairstyle or a nice personality occasionally, but that didn’t mean anything at all. Obviously.

 

But he talked to this “older man” so often, his parents were starting to think the worst. At first, they were worried about him being affiliated with a potentially predatory older male who could take advantage of him, but now, they were just worried he was gay. His mother had walked into his room to find him wanking one time, and had heard the name ‘ _ Phil _ ’ being moaned from his mouth. She’d never closed a door fast enough. 

 

Dan had already been freaked out by that, and had had a series of other encounters like this with his parents. But when his father had found some…  _ unsavory _ chat messages on his laptop for the third time, he’d confronted Dan immediately. Dan was kicked out the next day. At least he still had his flat at uni, and at least it was just a holiday.

 

_ And three, three, three for my heartache _

 

Dan hadn’t spent too much time crying on the floor after that. Around fifteen minutes after crying his heart out, he’d gotten up and got dressed. He wiped away his tears and walked out of the flat, clenching his fist and slamming the door shut behind him. He had quite a few notes in his pocket, his oyster card, and a debit card. He’d be fine for the day.  _ Fine.  _

 

He stopped at a Starbucks and grabbed a drink, and headed out into the heart of the city. He’d always hated Christmas time. It reminded him too much of his parents and the day he’d been shoved away from the familiar comfort of his childhood home. He supposed it ended that day. This was just another thing to add to why he hated Christmas. He walked around, trying to clear his head, but the image of Phil walking out of the flat kept entering into his mind. He shook it away.

 

He bought stupid things at stupid shops and took the Tube down to Louise's’. He texted her quickly to say he was coming over, and she responded with an enthusiastic reply of ‘Yay! See you soon”. He was halfway there when he got the reply.

 

He stepped into her house, shoving his bags to the side and collapsed into her arms. He’d never cried harder. 

 

_ And four, four, four for my headaches _

 

He hadn’t heard from Phil in a week. He texted him often, but it was to no avail. He’d assumed he blocked him. Maybe they’d broken up. He assumed so. That would make him feel better for what he was doing.

 

Dan had gone out every night, getting smashed at bars and fucking the nearest guy or girl that was willing. At their flat, at his flat, in the bathroom. Wherever, whenever. He needed to forget Phil as soon as possible. He wanted him gone from his head.

 

He woke up every morning with a pounding headache, either with a tired, sleeping body at his side or nothing but a rumple in the sheets and maybe a note. Often it was the latter. He hadn’t bothered to say good morning or cook them breakfast before stepping outside to smoke. It was a habit he hadn’t picked back up in years. He was wasting away, no use trying to save this body now.

 

The only consistent thing these days were his shitty hangovers and pounding headaches.

 

_ And five, five, five for my lonely _

 

No matter how much sex he had, no matter how much he spoke to his friends or his brother, he was constantly lonely. Phil had been gone for three weeks. He was miserable. He hardly bothered to get up or shower. He knew this wasn’t healthy. Thankfully he had just enough energy to change his clothes. Or maybe not thankfully. He didn’t care to wash them.

 

He downloaded some stupid dating app and signed himself up as bi and looking for a simple fuck. He got several texts a day. The sex didn’t work to make him feel better like he’d hoped. But he really didn’t expect it to. It’s a moment of euphoria, maybe a second of forgetting Phil, and then it’s gone, just like that.

 

He was so fucking  _ lonely.  _ Nothing helped. 

 

_ And six, six, six for my sorrow _

 

It wasn’t unlikely to find Dan crying in the bathtub, or in Phil’s room, or the kitchen, or the living room, or anywhere, really. Phil had left a lot of things behind. Dan thought it might’ve been to taunt him. He knew better than that. 

 

Everything reminded him of Phil. Shit, he couldn’t look at the goddamn door to his bedroom without feeling his nose itch and his eyes water. He was hopeless. He’d read yesterday whilst mindlessly scrolling through Tumblr that these things he was experiencing were a form of depression. But he wasn’t suicidal, and a therapist was just to give you pills. And pills were basically a big sign saying that you were insane, so he rushed away the mere thought of getting help. It was a stupid thought anyway.

 

Phil was gone. For good. He checked his accounts daily, and he was updating his Youtube like nothing had happened, and he watched the videos over and over. He cried silently through every one. He stopped making videos long ago. It had been three months now.

 

He should be getting an eviction notice soon.

 

_ And seven, seven for no tomorrow _

 

Dan had started to think about pills. And razors. And nooses. And drugs. And alcohol. Specifically pill-type drugs, and razors that emo kids like to write poetry about. And the alcohol was just fun to think about because it made his mind funny. Who knew what drugs could do. He’d heard something about a drug dealer a couple of streets over. He gathered up all the money he had and took a trip towards the place he’d know he’d visit frequently from now on.

 

The dealer gave him some drug with a long name and he bought however much he thought would satisfy him for a few days. He was sure the dealer didn’t even know what it was. He didn’t care. So what if he died.

 

He took the pills and returned for different kinds of drugs. He had a feeling that he might be becoming addicted. Oh well. Fuck it.

 

_ And eight, eight, I forget what eight was for _

 

Dan had a feeling the drugs were numbing everything except for the high. Phil was still a constant in the back of his mind. He tried to push it out. He took more. Someone took him to a hospital. He left without a word to go fuck some stranger at a bar. Whatever.

 

_ And nine, nine, nine for a lost God _

 

Dan had never been religious- this was a fact. The only time he’d gone to church was for Christmas and Easter services. He believed in God, sure, but really, only on holidays. Sometimes on Thanksgiving when he was especially full.

 

Recently Dan had had an epiphany- why, exactly, would the Great Father of All or whatever let him get to such a state? Surely he wouldn’t. He didn’t really deserve this. Besides, wasn’t God a good guy? He didn’t think he was a sinner. Well, unless you count the homosexuality and all those other sins. But really, he didn’t deserve it. God could look him in the eyes and he’d still say he wasn’t real. God wouldn’t be that shitty. Unless it was Zeus or something. 

 

Well, he supposed he didn’t really see a problem with it. He was fine. Empty, he guessed, but at least he didn’t think about Phil as much as he used to. Less than ten times a day, at least. He thought that an achievement. The drugs helped him. They did. They  _ did _ .

 

_ And ten, ten, ten, ten for everything, everything, everything, everything _

 

He finally swallowed the tenth pill, drinking a sip of water from the cup at the edge of the sink. He quickly signed the note before him. “ _ AIDS is a really shit disease. Phil, I hope you’re happy and you found someone you love. My friends were all good people, I think, so I hope that they’re okay. I haven’t spoken to them in weeks. I’ve been evicted, so I guess they’ll find me in a few days. Tell my parents and I hate them and my brother I love him. I’m not really sorry.” _

 

God, he knew he’d do this eventually. He might as well be a piece of shit in death, too. He didn’t really think anyone would miss him. He’d sobered up enough to go through with this and think semi-clearly. He remembered his friends and why he went to the doctor a few days ago, and he remembered a man named Phil who broke his heart, but he didn’t, not really because Dan was an alcoholic and he thinks that he might’ve hurt him a few times. He thinks he deserved it. He also remembers that he probably had sex with too many people who hadn’t been tested. He didn’t really care if he spread it, though. They shouldn’t have slept with him.

 

He remembered a brother who was good to him and parents who wished him to die. He remembered dropping out of uni, he remembered all the drugs he’d bought that had been stashed under his bed. Oh well.

 

He felt a sharp pain in his stomach and his vision started to blur. He laid down on the floor and let out a gasp.  _ Fuck.  _ This really hurt.

 

_ Fuck. _

 

_ Fuck. _

 

_ Fuck. _

 

This was goddamn fire. He needed it to stop, this was too painful. What was he doing? He didn’t want to die like this. He tried to find the sink but he grabbed the handle of the bath. He tried to drink some of the water, maybe that would help.

 

_ Shit.  _

 

The tub was starting to fill faster, and water lapped at the sides, threatening to spill off the sides. 

 

Dan leaned into the tub, crying out in pain and screaming for it to stop, oh God, it hurt so bad. He tried to drink as much water from the tub as possible, shit, would water even put the fire in his stomach out?

 

He felt a tug in his chest and he leaned further into the tub, and in his panicked state, he didn’t realize that he couldn’t breathe underwater. Water filled his lungs and he thrashed,  _ shit,  _ he’s never felt like this before.

 

He cried so hard, but he couldn’t do it, fuck, those pills, he couldn’t…

 

Eventually, the water in the tub settled and flowed out of the tub evenly. Dan did not move or make a sound.

  
-  
  


The note was lying on top of the counter, and sunshine streamed through the window. The cars honked their horns outside, and a landlord knocked on the door.

 

A phone buzzed.

 

One Message Unread

 

From: phil

 

**Dan, it’s me**

 

**I want to talk**

 

**I really need to say this**

 

**I’ll be at the flat at 10**

 

_ You can all just kiss off into the air _

_ Behind my back I can see them stare _

_ They'll hurt me bad but I won't mind _

_ They'll hurt me bad they do it all the time _

_ Yeah, yeah, they do it all the time, yeah, yeah _

_ They do it all the time (do it all the time) _

_ They do it all the time (do it all the time) _

_ They do it all the time (do it all the time, do it all the time) _

_ Do it all the time _

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first phan based fic I've ever written and I'm really proud of it. I love angst and I wrote this to vent through some personal problems. Interpret it how you like. The ending lyrics for this are about him not caring about anything or anyone and taking drugs (which hurt him), and his eventual decision to end his life.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
